I was trudging through an old file cabinet today with my shredding machine by my side. I was keeping it busy and had grown quite accustomed to the annoying sound and having to clean it out from time to time when it was full or jammed with me pushing too many papers through. I came across a folder of things I had written over the years, but this one particular story caught my eye.
My soon to be fifteen year old granddaughter has been much on my mind lately. She's grown leaps and bounds and is a good two inches taller than me. She is a poised and self assured young lady now and I'm very proud of her. Chloe was a preemie born 7 1/2 weeks early and when she came home from the hospital sixteen days later, she weighed a mere 4 pounds, 9 ounces. She was a difficult baby who had sensory issues - it took us quite a while to figure out how to hold and comfort her since she was not like other newborns who love being cuddled and held close. My daughter would get so worn out from all the crying and I offered to help out with her as much as I could. I loved this little baby with all my heart, just as I had loved my first born grandchild, Jake before her - and loved sweet Genevieve after her.
Right before Chloe's first birthday, they bought the house that we owned right next door to us and quickly started a well worn path between our homes. Sweet memories flooded back as I read what I wrote just a few days before Chloe's third birthday. I titled it "The Secret Garden":
We have a secret garden, Chloe and I. Jake is invited there too, sometimes, but it doesn't have the same magical qualities for him. It is a place of wild shamrock, cool moss, wispy ferns growing between holes in the bricks, and out-of-control shrubs that have grown into a natural arbor.
It is a place where Cardinals and Brown Thrush lovingly build their nests, lay their eggs, and feed their young in the protection of the underbrush that's too thick for our feline friends to find them. Chloe can get through it unobstructed, but I have to bend low to fit under the arbor. The soft little tufts of moss feel ever so cool under our feet - like we're on a magic carpet.
We sit there on our magic carpet in our secret garden and imagine ourselves flying like the birds and prowling like the cats and lighting up like the fireflies. We sit there and tell stories until mosquitoes start having us for dinner or until Mommy or Grandpa come to find us. We're in our own little world, bonded since birth - grandmother and granddaughter - finding no flaws in our secret garden or in each other.
My soon to be fifteen year old granddaughter has been much on my mind lately. She's grown leaps and bounds and is a good two inches taller than me. She is a poised and self assured young lady now and I'm very proud of her. Chloe was a preemie born 7 1/2 weeks early and when she came home from the hospital sixteen days later, she weighed a mere 4 pounds, 9 ounces. She was a difficult baby who had sensory issues - it took us quite a while to figure out how to hold and comfort her since she was not like other newborns who love being cuddled and held close. My daughter would get so worn out from all the crying and I offered to help out with her as much as I could. I loved this little baby with all my heart, just as I had loved my first born grandchild, Jake before her - and loved sweet Genevieve after her.
Right before Chloe's first birthday, they bought the house that we owned right next door to us and quickly started a well worn path between our homes. Sweet memories flooded back as I read what I wrote just a few days before Chloe's third birthday. I titled it "The Secret Garden":
We have a secret garden, Chloe and I. Jake is invited there too, sometimes, but it doesn't have the same magical qualities for him. It is a place of wild shamrock, cool moss, wispy ferns growing between holes in the bricks, and out-of-control shrubs that have grown into a natural arbor.
It is a place where Cardinals and Brown Thrush lovingly build their nests, lay their eggs, and feed their young in the protection of the underbrush that's too thick for our feline friends to find them. Chloe can get through it unobstructed, but I have to bend low to fit under the arbor. The soft little tufts of moss feel ever so cool under our feet - like we're on a magic carpet.
We sit there on our magic carpet in our secret garden and imagine ourselves flying like the birds and prowling like the cats and lighting up like the fireflies. We sit there and tell stories until mosquitoes start having us for dinner or until Mommy or Grandpa come to find us. We're in our own little world, bonded since birth - grandmother and granddaughter - finding no flaws in our secret garden or in each other.
What a beautiful post!
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful place! Thank you for sharing this precious piece of life with your wonderful Granddaughter. I like the way you are both on such equal footing and find no fault in each other in your special place. Truly lovely and wonderfully written.
ReplyDeleteHello Glenda
ReplyDeleteThat is a lovely piece of prose - so descriptive I was there with you.
Just read your comment on Money Matters and you mentioned no email being available to reply through. Does that mean when I comment using the wordpress account you can't access my email to reply? Maybe I'll have to comment using the old blogger account which does have an email attached - anyone interested will find a link on my last post to the new blog.
Take care
Cathy
Cathy @ Still Waters